Heero's Angel
by sakachan
Summary: Heero laments about what he's done and what's been done to him. Pairings: 1+2 Warnings: yaoi, mild angst


Disclaimers: I don't own the rights to Gundam Wing. I *wish* I did, but when has it mattered what I want?  
  
"My Lover's Box" belongs to Garbage. I don't own the rights to them, either. . . but maybe that's for the best.  
  
Note: This is my one of my favorite fics! I've read it the most (and edited it the most). I dance around with Heero's thoughts a bit, and sometimes what I write doesn't totally comply with the lyrics. However, I hope you all like it as much as I do! ^.^ v  
  
  
  
  
  
Heero's Angel  
  
  
  
Heero sighed as he gazed lovingly at Duo, who was quietly asleep with a pleased look upon his face. Smiling, the dark haired boy got up from the bed, being careful not to wake his sleeping koibito.  
  
Checking once again to make sure the chestnut-haired boy was fast asleep, Heero crouched down and cautiously felt underneath their bed. After a couple moments, his hands found the medium sized cardboard box they had been searching for. He removed the box from its resting place and set it over on his desk. Looking into the box, he stared deeply at the many objects that lay strewn about the bottom. He reached his hand in and picked up a small, golden cross. He held it lightly in his palm for a second, then wrapped his hand firmly around the object, closing his eyes.  
  
  
  
My lover's charms are in a box  
  
Beneath my bed  
  
  
  
Opening his eyes, he reached back into the box, picking up a small picture of him and Duo. He smiled, staring at the picture with renewed interest.  
  
The picture was about two years old, when he and Duo had first become partners. Back then, he had liked Duo more than as a comrade in arms- though he tried to hide it. But that's just the way the braided baka was. . . he could charm his way into anyone's heart; even Wufei had admitted to Heero that he thought of Duo almost as a brother.  
  
Duo had his arm wrapped nonchalantly around the Perfect Soldier's shoulders, giving the camera a large smile. Heero, himself, had a small, almost unnoticeable grin plastered upon his stoic features. Of course, Duo had never noticed. Heero looked up from the slightly weathered photograph and smiled, peering over at the still sleeping Duo. Quietly, he gripped the picture and held it to his heart.  
  
  
  
And piece by piece I'll cherish them  
  
Until the end  
  
  
  
Even now, Heero was amazed that he. . . *he*, the 'Perfect Soldier', was given the opportunity to be with someone as wonderful and as caring as Duo Maxwell. He had worried many times that, at the end of the wars, their relationship would crumble and disintegrate. Even though Duo had promised him that would never happen, Heero still wondered what the hell an angel like Duo was doing with a soulless soldier like him.  
  
That was the one thing Heero feared most- losing Duo. . . his savior. Being with the American pilot gave Heero a feeling he had never experienced before. He desperately did not want to lose that feeling.  
  
  
  
Send me an angel to love  
  
I need to feel a little piece of heaven  
  
  
  
After all the destruction and killing and endless bloodshed he had caused, Heero could not imagine anyone forgiving him- not even God. 'I don't deserve to be forgiven,' the Japanese pilot thought silently to himself, staring at the small cross in his hand. 'I've caused so much destruction without repentance. . . Even Duo's God can't save me now.' He looked sadly at the golden charm.  
  
All his life, he had been training to be a weapon of death. The blood of countless, innocent lives stained his slender, powerful hands. He had been forced into a life he had never wanted. But it was too late now. His deeds had been done, for the sake of his 'mission'. He felt as if his soul had been lost forever.  
  
  
  
Send me an angel to love  
  
I'm afraid I'll never get to heaven  
  
  
  
Rummaging through the box further, Heero came upon an old, faded picture. He looked at it closely for a while. It was of Duo when he was ten years old, a month after he had been taken in by the Maxwell Church. Heero faintly smiled, looking at the small boy in a priest's outfit. After a moment, his smile turned into frown as he remembered his own childhood.  
  
Dr. J had been training him since the day he was born. He had been forced to grow up so quickly, not being able to live a normal child's life. Of course, upon further contemplation, none of them had really lived a "normal" life.  
  
Heero felt a burning sensation in the back of his eyes. He shook his head, trying to force the tears from his eyes.  
  
  
  
They burn my hands, scar my face  
  
And blind my eyes  
  
  
  
'Damn J! Damn Oz! Damn them all! It's *their* fault so many innocent people are dead!' Heero cursed in his mind, trying desperately to get rid of the tears that were slowly making their way down his stern face. He took a deep breath and wiped his eyes with the back of his hand.  
  
'No. . .' he shook his head, 'it's *my* fault. *I'm* the one who kept fighting, even after I had so many opportunities to escape.' He hung his head, his dark, loose bangs shadowing his cobalt blue eyes.  
  
He didn't have to accept all of the missions Dr. J had sent him on; yet he did. He was the Perfect Soldier- it was his duty to accept every and all missions that came before him. Whether or not he really wanted to.  
  
And because he had decided to take part in all of those missions, thousands of people, both guilty and innocent, had walked through the gate of death.  
  
  
  
I'll steal your breath and throw away  
  
What I despise  
  
  
  
Many times over, Heero had thought of killing himself- self-destructing, or just letting the enemy blow Wing to pieces. It was simple enough to be killed in battle, what with everyone shooting at him. He had certainly been given the chance. Yet thinking of Duo- his smile, his laugh, the warmth of his hands. . . of his embrace- that had stopped Heero from ultimately blowing himself into oblivion.  
  
That, and the fact that there was no where to go after he had died. Sure, his body would be placed in the cold, wet ground, eventually getting eaten away by time and ground-dwelling invertebrates. But his soul would be forced to walk in purgatory until the end of time. . . if he even had a soul.  
  
  
  
Send me an angel to love  
  
I need to feel a little piece of heaven  
  
Send me an angel to love  
  
I'm afraid I'll never get to heaven  
  
  
  
It was still dark out; not yet 2:00 am. The moon stood quietly in the black night sky, casting eery shadows off of everything in the room. Heero continued to look through the cardboard box. He eventually stumbled upon a tiny, dried up rose- the one Heero had given Duo on their first *actual* date. He was surprised Duo had kept the thing. He didn't know it had meant so much to the baka.  
  
Lightly holding the flower in his fingers, he was surprised at how well it was preserved. It almost reminded him of the yellow flower that little girl with the puppy had given him. . . before he had destroyed the city she lived in, killing her and her small golden dog. He had saved that as well, hiding it in a place that not even Duo knew about.  
  
Once again, a flood of sad emotions ran over him, almost crushing him. He had been so careless, for once in his life. He had never really forgiven himself for it. Even after killing thousands of people, that was the one thing Heero regretted most about his life.  
  
  
  
Between these walls and darkened halls  
  
I've done my time  
  
  
  
Death seemed very appealing to Heero at times. Especially late at night, when the memories of his deeds haunted him, causing him to sometimes give up sleep entirely. Like tonight. Duo would occasionally notice the sleepiness in Heero's cobalt eyes. However, the American knew that if he asked his lover what was wrong, the Japanese pilot would simply reply "Nothing." Heero didn't like keeping things from Duo, but he didn't like worrying the boy either.  
  
However, death held nothing- no promise, no stimulation. It was just an escape from his problems. And he knew his depression would have to lighten someday. Until then, he would have to store his feelings and emotions away in a box, like Duo had done with his own valued objects.  
  
  
  
If I should die before I wake  
  
Then you'll know why  
  
  
  
The illuminated red numbers on the clock that rested on the night stand beside Duo and Heero's bed read 2:15. Heero kept searching through the box, finding yet another interesting object. It was another picture, but it was more recent than the others. One that had been taken probably a month earlier. It was of him and Duo kissing beneath a rose trellis, the dark, cloudy sky above pouring near-heavy rain upon the two of them. Heero's hair looked fairly wet, and his long, dark brown bangs were slick against his head. Duo's braid was hanging nicely behind his back, and his chestnut bangs were pressed against his face. Duo's arms were gripped protectively around Heero's waist; Heero, in turn, was clutching the American's waist, pulling the boy towards him.  
  
'Quatre must have taken this,' Heero thought with a smirk. He noticed a tiny white note attached to the back of the picture. He opened it and read the small, neat writing.  
  
"Duo, I thought you might want this. I found it mixed in with those pictures I developed. Wufei's a pretty good photographer, huh? He and Trowa took it about a week ago- you know, when it was raining and they were bored out of their minds? Anyway, they told me to give it to you. We all hope you and Heero like it! Quatre"  
  
Heero raised his brow in surprise. It was not very common to have the Chinese and French pilots do something so. . . cute. Atleast, not for anyone they weren't interested in.  
  
He stopped obsessing over that and looked at the picture. His koibito looked completely and utterly happy. He had never noticed it before, so seeing it was a bit shocking. But that wasn't the weird part- it was the way the flash from the camera had hit Duo's face, making it seem like there was a heavenly light shining proudly upon him, giving him an angelic glow.  
  
  
  
Send me an angel to love  
  
  
  
A small rustling sound came from the other side of the room. "Mm. . . Heero? Watcha doing?" Duo smiled at his lover with large, violet eyes. Heero whipped his head around.  
  
"Huh? Oh. . . nothing," he responded quickly.  
  
"Okay." The American scratched his head. He ran his hand through his long chestnut colored hair, which was out of its usual braid. He sank back down into the covers.  
  
Heero sighed. Sleep was starting to overcome him too. He put the contents of the box back into their proper places. He quietly slid the box back under the bed and got in under the sheets. Duo effortlessly rolled over and hugged the Japanese pilot.  
  
"G'night, Heero. . ." he said softly. "Love ya."  
  
Heero smiled and embraced the American, resting his head against Duo's. "Ai shiteru, Duo," he whispered.  
  
  
  
I need to feel a little piece of heaven  
  
Send me an angel to love  
  
I'm afraid I'll never get to heaven  
  
  
  
'Maybe there's a chance I'll be forgiven,' Heero thought seriously as he gazed deeply into Duo's violet eyes. 'My angel can put in a good word for me.' He smiled and passionately kissed the American's lips.  
  
  
  
Send me an angel to love  
  
I need to feel a little piece of heaven  
  
Send me an angel to love  
  
I'm afraid I'll never get to heaven  
  
Send me an angel  
  
  
  
Owari 


End file.
